


The Legacy

by elusivelover_archivist



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Betrayal, Doubt, Family Issues, M/M, Romance, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-06-01
Updated: 1998-06-01
Packaged: 2019-09-24 08:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17097011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusivelover_archivist/pseuds/elusivelover_archivist
Summary: By Cory ParsonsHan receives a tempting offer, forcing him to choose between family ties and... Luke.





	The Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Cara Loup, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Elusive Lover](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Elusive_Lover_\(Star_Wars_archive\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Elusive Lover’s collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ElusiveLover).

Corellia was a revelation for Luke. Under the pale sky of mid-spring glittered an immense ocean, and on the horizon lay the mist-swathed silhouettes of green islands, drifting in and out of the evening haze. The northern continent was crowded with heavy industry, but the island clusters of the south appeared rural and untouched by comparison. And that was where they were headed, across a deep, wooded bay where two rivers joined before flowing into the sea.

Luke glanced briefly at the Alliance pilot beside him. The man didn’t seem too impressed by the play of sunset on the water. Only every once in a while did he look up from the craft’s instruments.

Although on the outside their vehicle looked inconspicuous like a civilian craft, it was in fact a heavily armored shuttle, equipped with a pair of retractable laser cannons. A necessary precaution, so the Alliance Commander in the capital had insisted, but until now, there’d been no incidents nor any sign of Imperial activity.

“We should arrive shortly, sir,” the pilot announced.

Luke wondered if his impatience was so easy to read.

They’d never planned it quite like this. When a liberation war erupted on Corellia, he and Han had headed an Alliance contingent to support local rebel forces against the Imperial government. After a long planetary siege and a brief, bloody battle, the regional governor had finally surrendered, and the Alliance troops let out a collective sigh of relief. Yet their enthusiasm had been premature, so the next few days proved.

While bureaucrats and Imperial functionaries were willing to accept their defeat, the military turned out to be less tractable. Stationed in garrisons all over the planet, they declared their private war against the insurgent Corellians, preferring to continue the fight as partisans despite their former superiors’ explicit disapproval. And from there, the situation had deteriorated rapidly into a civil war on many scattered fronts, approaching a state of total anarchy.

Luke let a quiet sigh escape. The developments had eventually forced Han and him to split up. While Han took charge of the ground forces and grimly devoted himself to recovering each square mile of land from the Imperial intruders, Luke had worked for a resolution from the diplomatic end. Every day in the past weeks had been crammed with meetings, often on neutral worlds and outposts, to arrange for a conference with all the remaining Imperial leaders. Rallying the Corellian rebel groups had been almost as difficult. In the course of the war, the newly founded Patriot Army had fractured into rivaling groups, and peace-making had become a matter of mediating between countless factions and their diverging interests.

But now, Luke hoped, all the disputes had been settled at last. The peace conference had been concluded successfully last night. Despite a certain amount of teeth-gritting at the hard-won compromises, a treaty would be signed as soon as all the details had been worked out. And he was finally free to rejoin Han.

The prospect made him slightly nervous, Luke admitted to himself. More, he felt jittery like a teenager before his first date. _Absurd_ , he thought with an ironic smile, but that didn’t disperse the tightness in his stomach. Since his teenage years on Tatooine, he’d pulled through a crush of battles and mind-reeling crises, but the mere thought of Han still flustered him. Then again, their relationship dated back only two months, and at least half that time had been spent apart. With Han far afield in the southern war zone, contact had been reduced to occasional com calls lately.

Luke sat up automatically when the shuttle began its descent. In the west, forested ridges were afire with the rose and amethyst flares of sunset, but the field camp itself was already bathed in deep blue shadows. Rotating lights outlined rows of tents and vehicles, both ground crawlers and fighters, which were parked along the landing field.

“Thank you,” Luke remembered to say when the canopy lifted.

“You’re welcome, sir.” The pilot gave a salute and kept the shuttle humming on standby until Luke had jumped down from the cockpit.

Luke blinked his eyes against the brilliant headlights, his senses once again flooded by the rich scents of Corellia, carried along by ocean breezes.

“About time!” called a voice from the twilight.

At the sight of a long and lean silhouette, jogging towards him from the other side of the field, Luke’s heart kicked at his ribs. “Han!” he called back and felt excited like a boy.

For a long moment, they just looked at each other.

“Hiya, kid,” Han said with a slow grin, and despite the dimness, Luke could see the warmth lighting his eyes.

An instant later, muscular arms wound around him, squeezing hard, and a breathless laugh drowned in the kiss that followed. Luke felt fleetingly grateful for the evening twilight that concealed the heat in his cheeks and shielded them from prying eyes, but then he had no more thought to spare for anything except the pressure of Han’s warm lips and the feel of a hard chest against his own.

“Been a long time,” Han said in a lowered voice when they parted for a quick breath.

“You can say that again,” Luke returned hoarsely. The knot in his stomach tightened as Han pulled him closer, both hands settling firmly at the small of his back.

“So show me how much you’ve missed me,” Han murmured before renewing the kiss.

This time, Luke’s mouth opened under Han’s. Their tongues engaged in eager exploration, inducing a pleasant lightheadedness. Luke wrapped his arms more tightly around Han’s waist and felt a revealing bulge at Han’s groin press impatiently against his belly. The contact sent a sharp pang of excitement through him, and he broke the kiss with a gasp.

“We’d better get inside,” he suggested, smoothing a hand over his hair where Han’s fingers had played.

“Sorry to say it, but this’ll have to wait for another hour or two.” Han pulled a face and with a mocking grin glanced down his own body. “Too bad.” He pointed at a group of flat buildings behind the camp. “C’mon, it’s dinner time, and everyone wants to celebrate the peace treaty. We’ll just sneak off early, okay?”

 

The mess hall was crowded, and Han’s entry caused a brief rise in the noise. Not quite an acclamation, but close enough. Luke wasn’t surprised by the air of familiarity between Han and his troops. Although years ago he’d received some training at the Imperial Academy, Han resented military decorum with a passion.

At a long table on the far side of the hall sat the fighter pilots. Luke knew at least half of them from Rebellion times, among them Wedge Antilles, another Corellian who’d volunteered for this operation. After a round of handshakes, Luke sat down with Han at the end of the table.

“Good this is gonna be over soon,” Han said, dipping his spoon into a bowl of soup. “I sure wasn’t born to be a ground hog. You wouldn’t believe how many days ‘n nights I’ve spent inside some muddy trench, instead of up in the air. It’s like these Imperials were trying to invent war all over again. The dirtiest form, too.”

“Losses?” Luke asked quietly.

“Some.” Han’s expression darkened briefly. “I’ve been told our record’s excellent, but it always feels different from up close.” He pushed the bowl aside and reached for his plate. “Well, things should improve from now on. Including the food.”

Some of the pilots chuckled in agreement, exchanging sarcastic quips about the kitchen droids’ insufficient understanding of human taste buds.

“I’d better warn you that there’s talk about you at headquarters,” Luke said.

“What kind of talk?”

“Well, what do you think? You’ve got another promotion coming.”

Han’s expression turned into a grimace. “No, thanks. My butt’s still hurting from the last time I got kicked up the ranks. And anyway, they should promote _you_.”

Luke shook his head and smiled. “For what?”

“Hey, most of those cheers a short while ago were for you!” Han said, pointing his fork at him. “People around here realize what you did for Corellia.”

“I resigned my commission a long time ago,” Luke reminded him.

“Yeah, goes to show you’re brighter than me,” Han muttered. “No General Skywalker then, huh?”

“Definitely not.”

A moment after the words were out, Luke wondered if Han had intended him to read more into his question. A veiled suggestion to plan a shared future, maybe? Then again, Han had just declined the prospect of a continuing military career for himself. 

Luke slanted him a sidelong glance.

Although in his battle fatigues, Han still looked every inch the laid-back pirate. The loose camouflage jacket and brown undershirt exposed his throat and upper chest, both gleaming bronze with a deep tan. The tousled fall of his hair had lightened to a warm brown under Corellia’s unfailing sun, and squinting into the light had left thin white creases around his eyes.

Luke’s pulse stumbled when Han looked up from his meal, leaned closer and murmured, “Yeah, well, total respectability’s just deadly dull.”

Unnoticed by their neighbors at the table, a strong hand stole across to wander up Luke’s thigh, stopping just short of his groin. Heat kindled in Luke’s nerves at the contact and made him restless.

“So you’ll just make sure nobody mistakes you for a dull, respectable guy, right?” he asked.

Han grinned broadly at the double meaning and after a brief squeeze withdrew his hand. “Guess that’s my nature,” he said flippantly, but under the humor a dark fire shone in his eyes.

For a moment, Luke wished he could use the Force to dispense with the formalities and evacuate the mess hall. Or at least gain better control over his physical reactions. Han made him nervous like a kid again, though he probably thought it cute. Luke subdued a sigh, both at the situation and at himself. Sometimes it felt as if parts of him were growing up at different speeds, and since his spur-of-the-moment departure from Tatooine, the part responsible for romance had had few chances to develop, except in theory.

A little ruefully, Luke thought of the time when he’d indulged private fantasies about Han, the longing always stronger than the traces of guilt. But at that time he’d still expected Han and Leia to marry — as if instant marriage were the natural consequence of love and attraction. His backwater upbringing definitely showed there. In retrospect, Leia wasn’t convinced that Han had ever been seriously in love with her. Luke firmly believed just that. It was one of those disputes between him and Leia, and an awkward one at that.

A boxy droid appeared at the table, collecting trays and dishes to replace them with dessert. After dessert, they’d share a drink with Wedge and the rest of the pilots, trade news, probably reminisce about Rebellion times for a while. Luke shrugged to himself. He’d just put up with weeks of minimal contact with Han. He could manage another hour, if needs be.

{ } { } { }

“Welcome to my palace,” Han said later, when he opened the door to his quarters in the barracks.

Before Luke had any time to look around, Han swept him into a tight embrace while closing the door with his heel. Through his lowered lids, Luke noticed an overhead light that came up slowly, or maybe it was just the flare of heat in his nervous system creating a visual reflex. The way his body reacted, that wouldn’t really surprise him.

They kissed again, this time secure in the knowledge that no one would interfere. Although the room could accommodate up to three officers, Han didn’t share it with anyone. Privilege of rank, he’d told Luke.

The kiss lasted a long time and was followed by another after the briefest interval, filled only by their rough breathing. Then Han took his lips again and searched him out with fierce passion. His tongue caressed Luke’s teeth and the inside of his mouth until he responded just as fervently, holding Han’s head still with both hands.

A rumbling sound of pleasure escaped Han’s throat, almost a growl. Luke felt his shoulders connect with a wall while Han’s capable hands roamed down his lower back, pressing and stroking insistently. As he thought of the long night ahead of them, Luke’s earlier excitement returned in giddy waves. He felt himself harden instantly, and the ground under his feet seemed to grow unstable. Pressing closer to Han, Luke slipped a hand inside his shirt. Warm lips moved all over his face, then down the side of his jaw, and the intensified friction between their bodies made Luke gasp.

Han framed his face in both hands, caressing Luke’s cheeks with his thumbs. “Hell, am I glad this is over.” He paused, realizing how that must have sounded, and mimicked exasperation at himself. “You know, shoot-outs with rampaging stormtroopers, crawling through the mud, then coming back here at nights—”

“I know,” Luke said. It had been some very lonely weeks, though he hadn’t really expected it to affect Han in the same way.

“Still...” Han broke off with a shrug. “It’s kinda nice being here. You spend ten or twenty years in space and you think you’ve forgotten all about your homeworld — the smells, the feel of it...”

“But you haven’t,” Luke guessed.

“No. Seems like there’s a few things you never forget, no matter how long you stay away.”

When Han released him to toss his jacket down and take off his boots, Luke finally got a look around, but there wasn’t much too see. An austere room furnished with three cots and a locker, constructed from prefab parts in muddy colors just like the rest of the barracks. But then, no one was expected to spend much time in here. At the foot of Han’s bed, com gear had been set up, and a tool-kit sat beside it.

The brief survey gave Luke a moment to calm his unsteady breathing.

“And the truce is holding?” he asked, sitting on Han’s bed to pull off his own boots. It felt strangely unreal, to find himself in such an ordinary situation with Han. Sitting next to him, getting ready for the night as if it were all part of a well-practiced routine.

“There’s been no incident for five days,” Han answered, “so, yeah, I think it’s holding.” He slanted Luke an amused glance. “Scuttlebutt has it that General Solo’s getting fidgety without action. Sounds like they think it’s peacetime making me restless. Guess you know better.”

Luke gave a noncommittal sound as he dumped his boots on the floor. The suggestion in Han’s words and tone, the velvet sound of his lowered voice touched him like a faint electric current to the most sensitive nerve. He cleared his throat awkwardly and muttered, “Yeah, I can guess, I think.”

Han chuckled. “Well, we’ve been waiting long enough.”

The very next moment, he hugged Luke breathless, and every sense of ordinariness evaporated. Luke wound both arms around the hard, contoured torso. With closed eyes, he breathed Han’s scent — a unique mixture of sealant, soap, and something like an exotic spice — enfolding him together with Han’s body heat. Peeling the shirt off Han’s shoulders, his hands traced corded muscles down the long back, then wandered around and up Han’s chest. Meanwhile, Han was busy undressing him, dropping moist kisses on his skin wherever another article of clothing had been removed.

“You’ve been out in the sun a lot,” Luke said huskily. His fingers moved through the surprisingly soft hair on Han’s chest, now only a shade darker than his deep tan.

“Only during the past couple o’ days...” Han nuzzled the side of Luke’s neck and pushed him back on the bed.

The cot was narrow and gave a distinct creak under their added weight. Han leaned over him, his eyes dark with barely disguised hunger. “You ain’t got no idea what it’s been like. Each night when I hit the sack... and now you’re here.”

Before Luke could answer, Han’s mouth covered his own, and he surrendered himself to the hot caresses of Han’s lips and tongue. A big hand rubbed his abdomen, then, skipping all preliminaries, slipped into his briefs and cupped his genitals, fondly and with the lightest pressure at first. Clutching at Han’s shoulders, Luke gasped and arched up helplessly.

He’d imagined this through so many nights, but fantasy fell apart at the searing reality of Han’s touch. Han ran his fingertips up the length of his hardness, and he quivered, every nerve drawing tight like a bow-string.

“You too, huh?” Han asked between kisses, as if he could read Luke’s thoughts, his voice low and roughened.

Whatever he’d meant to say came out in muffled, incoherent sounds, overwhelmed by the fierce pleasure that stormed him from all sides. Han gripped him harder, and the pressure in Luke’s groin intensified sharply. With each motion of Han’s fist came another powerful wave of heat, carrying him higher and higher into weightless abandon until his entire body was absorbed into it. A spasm of sheer pleasure flashed through him, and Luke stiffened in reflex.

“Han,” he gasped, “don’t — wait...”

Before he could finish, Han rolled over him, and the feel of his lean frame pressing him back into the mattress brought on the deepest thrill. White fire raced through every nerve. Luke moaned against Han’s chest, a faint taste of salt on his lips as a sudden, violent climax seized him with an explosive blend of pleasure and uncontainable joy. His hips rocked up again and again until the spasms finally abated.

A hot stillness wrapped around him, filled only with the pumping beats of his heart. Han’s lips brushed a light kiss to his temple when Luke finally opened his eyes.

“Guess I lost control,” he said hoarsely.

“I love it when you do,” Han whispered against his ear, nuzzling soft skin below the lobe.

Luke let his breath go quietly, and the faint awkwardness he’d felt escaped with it. While contentment spread through every limb, there was still that glow of wanting in his chest, a need for closeness and intimacy that exceeded the surge of desire. He smiled when he felt an urgent erection nudge his hip and reached down, softly running his fingers over strained cloth. His attempts at undressing Han had been stopped midway, but now he could concentrate fully on removing every remaining garment.

He unzipped and slid Han’s pants down the lean thighs, firmly trailing his hands over tense muscles. For a few moments, he teased through the thin fabric of Han’s briefs and felt a rapid pulse answer his caress as Han swelled under his hand.

Han let out a raspy breath when his briefs were removed as well, to land atop the tangled heap of clothes on the floor. His arm tight around Luke’s neck, Han pulled him into a rough kiss. Slipping his tongue past the warm lips, Luke immersed himself in the sensation of Han’s body pressed against him. He palmed the rigid flesh, stroking lightly, then with greater pressure until Han squirmed and devoured his mouth in a deep kiss. One hand slid around Luke’s hip and, fitting itself to the curve of his buttock, began to rub and squeeze. Warmth flushed up his thighs, and Luke let out a little gasp of pleasure.

He dropped a kiss on Han’s chin and murmured, “Come on, I know what’s on your mind.”

Aroused and throbbing urgently against Luke’s palm, Han had a hard time denying it. “I can wait,” he said unconvincingly.

Luke shook his head with a small grin. “What’s the point?”

“I don’t know. Just trying to be decent, I guess.”

“Try another time.”

Amusement broke through Han’s mock-glare, and he surrendered with a shrug. “So get off me, we need something.” Rolling over, he reached for the locker.

Luke closed his eyes when Han began preparing him with long and careful fingers, teasing up delicious little shivers that slowly crawled down his legs. When the probing fingers were finally removed, a cloud of unfocused excitement surrounded him, and the sight of Han’s long, sun-bronzed body heightened the pleasant sensations. The back of his hand slid across the fuzz on Han’s chest, and a quick heartbeat vibrated against it.

“Uh, Luke, we’ll have to keep it quiet...” Han gave a crooked grin and captured his hand, lightly dusting kisses across the palm and the inside of Luke’s wrist. “Don’t know how we’ll manage, but the walls are pretty thin.”

“I’ll try to remember...”

Suddenly Luke’s pulse sauntered with anticipation, quickened with feeling. Han didn’t care about preserving a reputation; he cared for the privacy because this belonged entirely to them and would be shared with no one. Such a simple thought, and yet it chased a small ache through him. Maybe because he’d never had anyone exclusively to himself, Luke thought, because he’d never experienced this kind of total attention focused on him alone — skin, heart, sensation, mind.

Before moving into position, Han brushed a kiss against the inside of Luke’s thigh, then lifted his legs over his shoulders.

Eyes slipping closed again, Luke felt his gut tighten at the tentative prodding. His first impulse was to hold his breath, but he caught it back and tried to breathe evenly. Although they’d made love in this way before, it was still a new experience and so profoundly different from all other forms of closeness that he felt energized and shaken to the core each time.

Han rocked his hips forward; shifting his grip, he pressed past the point of instinctive resistance, and for a few moments, the pressure deepened into pain. Luke arched up in reaction, a startled sound slipping through his clenched teeth.

Han paused immediately, one hand stroking the lightest caresses down Luke’s thigh, then reaching under him again. Once again, the tenderness revealed a sensitivity no one would expect from a man of his abrupt temper. Luke swallowed and reached up to touch the wild pulse at Han’s throat. The warm inward glow had eased from his chest down into his belly, and when Han moved forward again, frissons of pleasure joined the slow swell of sensations, of love.

He took a while to realize that Han was whispering to him, repeating his name, his murmurs interrupted by short gasps and small noises of pleasure. With a final, driving motion, Han joined them completely, and Luke’s eyes flew open as the thrill of it raced through him. Han’s dark gaze remained locked with his as they savored the moment in tremulous, breathless silence.

Disjointed words flooded Luke’s mind, and yet he couldn’t say anything. He felt Han move inside him, settling into a rhythm that built slowly until the sparks that flared in his nerves became ripples of musical delight. This was being complete, renewed, swept to a different sphere of existence where every single touch spoke more eloquently than a torrent of words. The pleasure that arced through his senses was but part of it, the rhythm to a complex harmony vibrating the strings of his soul as Han deepened his thrusts. His breaths had grown ragged and feverish, and sweat sheened his chest. Luke twisted his fingers into the thick, dark hair, urging Han into a deep kiss, drowning moans that struggled in his throat. One large hand skimmed his belly to wrap around his burgeoning sex, and he surged into it, feeling himself pulse against Han’s fingers with eagerly rekindled arousal.

His legs locked around Han’s torso, his head flung back against the sheet, he moved with the pushing, pulling rhythm of desire. Furious pleasure cascaded through him in faster waves until it became excruciating, an ache for completion that rocked his body in answer to Han’s thrusts, an incomprehensible joy of oneness. Han ground his teeth together, explosive gasps escaping with each forward lunge.

Pulsating heat closed around Luke like a fist, centered in his groin where the twin stimulation fused in a sudden blaze. He bit down on his lower lip, choking back a cry or a sob as he pushed up into the pressure of Han’s hand and fell back into the piercing heat of Han’s strokes, carried to a breathless crest of feeling and sensation.

In another moment, Han froze and shuddered violently. Through the battering of his heart, Luke felt him come, spasmodic release echoed by harsh breaths. Then Han slumped and his head sagged, soft hair brushing Luke’s chest.

For a while, all they could do was lie wrapped around each other in stunned silence, their breathing gradually settling into easier cadence. Until Han muttered, “I don’t know what it is with you...”

When Luke turned his face to look at him, Han had rolled over onto his back and a slight grin bent his mouth. “What?” Luke asked, his voice still unsteady.

“Just that I feel like I’m being turned inside out sometimes,” Han said dismissively. His hand lifted and long fingers drifted across Luke’s hair. “Good to have you back,” he added.

“Yeah, you too.”

But as he lay back with closed eyes, Luke still heard the note of ambivalence in Han’s voice, and faint apprehensions shivered through the total contentment he’d felt just a moment ago. Annoyed at himself, Luke tried to discard the feeling and the nettling questions he couldn’t ask.

 _People either click, or they don’t_ , was Han’s philosophy. _Once you start asking too many questions about how it’s gonna work in the long run, you’ve already seen the end of it_.

From Han’s point of view, that was what had gone wrong between him and Leia. Only a few months after the Endor battle, he’d walked out of another argument with a bang and never looked back. At the time, neither of them had said much about it, but with distance, Han had opened up a little. During a rare hiatus between battles against Imperial desperados, and over a bottle of Corellian brandy, Han had poured out his thoughts. Perhaps he’d felt obliged to explain his reasons to Leia’s brother, or else he just needed to explain the decision to himself.

He’d confessed that he’d never been entirely comfortable with the relationship. It had started off on the wrong foot, he said, and for all the attraction, nothing like a real accord had ever existed between him and Leia. Before too long, the relationship had turned into a sequence of half-hearted struggles for a working compromise.

 _I’m too old to rearrange my life around the plans of a princess with politics in her genes_ , Han had summed it up. _Wouldn’t expect it of her either. I’m sorry if I hurt her, but Leia knows I’m right — ask her, she’s gonna tell you all about it_.

But before Luke could instigate a confidential talk with his sister, the situation had been fraught by yet another twist in the tangle of unresolved sentiments. Mere weeks after the final split between Han and Leia, and not too long after Han’s nocturnal confession, he and Han had become lovers.

The cot creaked as Han moved suddenly, interrupting the flow of reminiscence. When Luke opened his eyes, Han was studying him pensively, then reached out to trace the creases across his forehead. “What’s up? What’re you thinking about?”

“Things that happened in the past,” Luke answered evasively, but Han let it go.

“Watch it, that’s a sign you’re gettin’ old,” he said, amusement curling his mouth. Settling back, he slung an arm around Luke’s waist and pulled him into a possessive hold.

 _Enjoy the moment while it lasts_ , Luke repeated one of Han’s basic principles to himself, and right now, it came easy.

Han’s body heat surrounded him with a deep sense of security and togetherness, gradually letting him drift off into untroubled sleep.

{ } { } { }

The next morning, after a shower and some prolonged cuddling on the narrow cot, they set out for breakfast in the mess hall. On the doorstep, Han turned back to glance around his quarters.

“Want me to muss up one of the other beds?” he asked with a wink. “The cleaning crew might start talking...”

“So let them.”

“If you say so.” Han’s grin was unconcerned — and touched by a hint of pride, Luke thought. It made all his dim worries of the night before seem entirely pointless.

While they’d never exactly advertised their relationship, they’d made no efforts to hide it either, and some of their friends probably guessed. The Rebel Alliance had been patched together from too many species and cultures to allow for prejudice, and the choice of a partner, no matter what gender or race, was considered strictly private business.

However, the situation on Corellia was different, Luke reminded himself as they walked towards the mess hall. Even in the big cities of the north, same-sex unions didn’t rank equal with the standard type of marriage between genders. Wedlock, Corellians called it, and in some more remote regions, the old tradition of multiple marriages was still in practice. As a side-effect, the past weeks of negotiations had taught Luke quite a lot about Corellian culture and tradition. For centuries, a man’s honor and social standing had been reflected by his marriage to at least two or three women from preferably wealthy families. The custom had faltered only when drastic changes in the planet’s economy rendered it less than practical.

Luke smiled to himself. It was by far too easy to imagine Han presiding over a harem of industrious Corellian wives.

As they entered the mess hall, an officer walked up to Han, his expression spelling business. Luke chose a place by the window and ordered breakfast for both of them.

“Leia’s logged a message for you,” Han reported when he joined him a minute later. “Probably concerns the peace treaty, so you’d better check it out when we’re finished here.”

A squat server droid trundled up to their table, delivering a set of trays.

“Nutri flakes,” Han said, pulling a face. “What a great surprise...”

“What’s your schedule today?” Luke asked. “If you’re busy, I can—”

“Not really,” Han interrupted at once. “I gotta work on the logistics of breaking the camp and relocating personnel, but that’s all. Should be done by the time you’ve answered Leia’s message.”

 

Half an hour later, Luke sat by a communications console and watched the officer on duty key in a code that would dispatch his message.

Much as Han had guessed, Leia’s note concerned various details of the peace treaty. She’d requested Luke’s advice on some particularly sensitive issues and thanked him for his efforts in a strangely impersonal fashion. One diplomat congratulating another, not a sister writing to her twin. Granted, the message hadn’t come in on a private channel, but its cool, businesslike tone bothered Luke nonetheless. Once again, he wondered uneasily whether his relationship with Han would alienate them.

To keep it a secret from Leia had been entirely unthinkable, yet Luke had felt helpless and apprehensive when he finally told her. The recent split was still fresh in Leia’s mind and renewing the hurt was the last thing he wanted. But she’d heard him out patiently, without the least trace of shock or even surprise.

 _And you love him?_ she’d finally asked, concern and distress equally clear in her voice.

She disapproved because she expected him to get hurt as well, Luke knew. There was no jealousy on her part, rather a sympathy so pronounced that it made him uncomfortable in turn. But how could he tell Leia that he didn’t care, that he believed it would be worth all the pain should Han decide to leave him too? That he wouldn’t change his mind even if it turned out that he was just a replacement, filling the unadmitted emptiness in Han’s life.

 _I do_ , he’d answered, wishing he could say more. His feelings for Han would remain the same, returned or not. During those months of loneliness and tormenting doubt, they’d lent him strength and purpose. And sometimes, when utter darkness reared to swallow him whole, loving Han had made him feel alive.

For a few moments longer, Leia had watched him, perhaps trying to gauge the reasons for his discomfort. _Good luck_ , she said at length. _I mean it_.

Just as the console chimed its transmission completed signal, the door opened at Luke’s back.

“Come over to my office when you’re done here,” Han said.

Luke rose from his seat, almost relieved that his uneasy reminiscing had been cut short. “I’ve just sent my message,” he said, following Han from the room. “We’re off then?”

“As soon as we’ve decided what to do with the rest of the day.” Han showed him into a small, sparsely furnished office at the end of the corridor. “How about a swing to the countryside, huh? We can’t be gone too long, but the whole area’s... well, scenic, I guess.”

Luke suppressed a smile at Han’s barely camouflaged patriotism. “I’ve spent the past two weeks wishing I had time for that,” he said.

“Good, let’s take a look at the map then.” Han waved him to his desk console.

The monitor brightened to display a detailed ground plan of the area, parceled into sectors which were marked in different colors.

“This is our camp,” Han explained, tapping the monitor. “That’s where the local Imperial forces are based, and these are larger settlements.”

“Cities?” Luke asked.

“No, but you could call them the headquarters of the old southern clans. It all looks pretty rustic at first glance, but the clan leaders are powerful guys. They used to organize and control the production, planetary trade, export — pretty much everything. The Imperial Governor tried to break their control, but never really managed to make a dent in the structure. It just moved underground.” For a few seconds, Han looked intently at the monitor as if lost in thought, then he added, “My mother’s from this area, you know.”

“She is?” It was news to Luke. Through all the years that they’d known each other, the only information Han had ever volunteered about his family was that they’d died in the first blaze of war when the Empire had annexed Corellia.

“Yeah.” Han continued to ponder the map and answered absent-mindedly. “Not exactly sure which clan though, I was too young when she got killed.” With a shake of the head, he straightened and flashed Luke an awkward grin. “Gettin’ sentimental here, ain’t I? Now — we’d better plot our route for today. Any suggestions?”

“Well, since we’re too far from the coast...” Luke needed a moment to focus his attention back on the map. “What’s the next best thing? The mountains? That lake over there?”

“Put your finger right between the two,” Han suggested, “and you’re hitting the jackpot. That’s Ingla Falls right there. Used to draw loads of tourists all those years ago, but there’ll be no one around these days. How’s that sound?”

A knock on the door intruded before Luke could answer, and at Han’s snappish “come!” an Alliance officer entered with a respectful salute.

“There’s someone outside to see you, sir. He calls himself the representative of the Innis Falin clan and said you’d want to see him at once.”

“Speakin’ of the devil,” Han muttered under his breath, but curiosity lit his eyes nonetheless. “All right, I’ll see him.”

The officer shifted nervously. “He said he’d prefer to talk to you under open sky. Sir.”

“All right, I’ll be there in a minute.” Han sighed. “You’d think that some kinda privilege comes with being a General,” he said to Luke, “but no, all you get is more work and constant complaints from all sides. I bet this guy’s here to demand compensation for burned farm land or something.”

But despite his surly expression, Luke could sense a sudden leap of tension in Han. “We’ll see,” he offered. “Perhaps it’s going to be more interesting than that.”

As soon as they’d stepped from the building, a swarthy stranger strode towards them, his jet-black eyes focused on Han with intense interest. “Han Solo,” he said and touched the back of his hand to his forehead in the traditional greeting. “I’m most honored to meet you. I’m Des Roan, steward of the Innis Falin clan.” A smile broke on his brown face, but didn’t reflect in his eyes.

Since the man seemed totally oblivious to his presence, Luke had ample chance to study him closely. Although short and stocky, he had large hands with prominent veins. Something about him was transparently insincere, but that might not mean anything. Living under an Imperial regime had forced most Corellians to resort to illegal activities of every kind. Almost everyone had something to hide, and insincerity had become second nature to them, a matter of survival.

“A steward?” Han said dubiously. “Never heard of that function before.”

“A steward is needed only in times of misfortune,” Roan replied, falling serious. “Three months ago, the head of our clan died, and we are now without a leader.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Although Han tried to hide it, Luke read teeming impatience in his posture.

“Oh, not to worry, we’re fortunate enough to have a designated heir,” Roan said, his smile returning. “Though the mothers took a while to figure out who he is. Our genealogy has grown pretty complex over the years.”

His tone had become more informal, Luke noticed, and his polite smile broadened into a mischievous grin.

“And now you want me to help you locate the guy?” Han asked. “Is that it?”

“I’ve already found him,” Roan announced in a raised voice, virtually booming with satisfaction. “You’re the one, Solo. The clan awaits your return.”

Startled into silence for a few seconds, Han stared at the man. “I think you’re making a mistake here,” he said, recovering from the shock with a slow shake of the head. “I don’t know too much about your regional clan laws, but I seem to recall that the leadership’s passed on from the youngest daughter’s son—”

“Yet if he dies without daughters, the honor reverts to the mother’s line and the elder daughter,” Roan explained. “Your mother, in this case.”

“I didn’t even know my mother had a sister,” Han said and scratched his chin.

“She died eight summers ago,” Roan returned, unperturbed. And with that, he began reciting a long list of ancestral names and marriages.

Han traded exasperated glances with Luke, very obviously perplexed by the revelation. “Look,” he said when Roan had finished, “I’ve been off-planet for so many years, and I’m not familiar with any of the laws... I mean, I appreciate the offer, but really — how could I be a clan leader?”

“All the elder family members will gladly advise and instruct you,” Roan said, his confidence unswerving. “I’ve heard about the life you’ve led, Solo. This must come as a big surprise, I’m sure. You’ll need time to consider. Why don’t you accompany me back to our lands, meet the inner family, and we can discuss the matter over a good brew?”

“Yeah, well, why not?” Han muttered. “Once the peace treaty’s been signed—”

“It has to be today,” Roan interrupted him with sudden agitation. “The new clan leader must be named within a full cycle of the moon, following the predecessor’s burial. We don’t have much time left.”

Something about his sudden urgency kindled a spark of suspicion at the back of Luke’s head. Until now, he’d listened with a mixture of fascination and amusement — but what if Roan wasn’t who he claimed to be?

Han considered for a moment and shrugged. “I’d have to be back at nightfall, that’s the best I can do for you.”

More than Han’s readiness to meet Roan’s demands, it was his expression that startled Luke. Behind the veneer of casual interest, Han’s gaze revealed a deep-seated respect for Corellian clan laws and intense curiosity.

“You coming along for the ride?” Han asked him.

“This is a family matter,” Roan interfered at once. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he’d only just noticed Luke. “No offense to your friend—”

“Come on,” Han growled, “no reason to make a big secret of this. So how about it, Luke?”

“If there’s anything the family wants to tell you in private, I’ll just step out,” Luke offered. While he kept his tone casual, the tingle of suspicion had intensified at Roan’s behavior. _Or am I getting paranoid?_ he asked himself. Years of war had bred too much mistrust into all of them.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Relenting, Roan put on a martyred air. “Shall we go?”

“Ready when you are,” Han said.

 

They followed Roan’s outmoded glider in the airspeeder Han had commandeered for his use. He shook his head once more as he kicked the vehicle into a smooth start.

“Still can’t believe it,” he muttered.

“Some surprise,” Luke agreed.

“Yeah, but it might turn into a real problem,” Han said, his gaze fixed on the blunt aft of Roan’s glider. “You gotta realize that I’m their only candidate. If I say no to them, they can’t just go on and offer the leadership to some other distant cousin. Even if there’s someone else with a claim...”

“Does that mean you can’t decline?”

“Sure I can. But in that case, it’s the same as if the clan leader’d died without any heir. The clan... dissolves. I remember that much.” Han grimaced and gripped the control stick a little harder. “Whatever they own — farming lands, manufactures, cattle — all reverts back to the families of their wives and mothers. Technically, they just become part of other clans, but it’s considered a total dishonor.”

“So they’ll try about everything to persuade you to accept, won’t they?”

“You bet they will.” Han gave a short laugh. “Hell, but what can I do about it? Seriously, Luke, can you see me as a clan chieftain out in the country?”

“Not really, but still...”

“What?” Han slanted him a quick glance.

“I didn’t know the first thing about being a Jedi when I met Ben,” Luke said reluctantly.

“That doesn’t compare.”

“Maybe not exactly...” Luke paused. “But they’re your mother’s family. Your family.”

Han’s expression darkened, became shuttered in another moment. “I know...” He leaned back into the seat, forcibly relaxing his tense shoulders and back. “But it’s not gonna work. I can’t do this.”

“Perhaps if—”

“No,” Han said sharply, the defiance in his tone betraying a private struggle. But before Luke could argue the point, Han’s expression went through another lightning change. “Besides, you shouldn’t try to talk me into this, unless you wanna get rid of me real fast,” he said with a crooked grin. “You realize they’d expect me to pick two or three wives and have a dozen kids?”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”

“So, you see? Besides, I like my life the way it is.” Without turning, Han placed a hand on Luke’s arm and squeezed briefly.

Strangely, the reassuring gesture had the opposite effect on Luke. Watching from the corner of his eye, he saw Han’s grin falter and make way for the closed-off, inward look once again. Luke was sure he could guess the thoughts behind the square brow. After so many years spent traveling, without ties and without anchor, perhaps the time had come for Han to consider settling down and acknowledge the benefits of stability. Luke wondered if Han would still be able to deny it when he met the family.

The speeder gained altitude as they approached a line of wooded hillocks. On the other side, stark cliffs flanked a broad river; scattered rocks gleamed white as fangs from the water.

“We’re getting close to the Falls,” Han remarked. “Maybe — what now?”

His last comment had been prompted by an unexpected maneuver of Roan’s glider. The craft veered sharply to the right, approaching densely forested slopes across the river. With a shrug, Han adjusted their course and throttled speed only a minute later, when Roan’s vehicle slowed and stopped.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he shouted as soon as the speeder had rocked to a gentle stop.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Roan promised with a wide, innocent smile. “Got to pick up someone else who’s eager to meet you.”

“Crazy Corellian,” Han muttered under his breath as Roan strode toward a shadowed grove. With a shrug, he turned back to Luke. “C’mon, let’s take a look at the waterfalls while we’ve got time. We should be able to see ‘em from here.”

They walked up a slope buried in brambles and creepers. Between _yola_ trees showed cliffs of weathered white rock, and the forest was alive with the chatter of birds.

“Not far now,” Han said, pointing at a brighter patch ahead.

When they stepped out into the open, they found themselves on the edge of a towering cliff that overlooked a deep canyon. Through a haze of moisture, Luke could see the waterfalls on the other side, cascading down over several terraces. Deep below, the torrents of white water whipped up spray in sparkling clouds over a pale, shimmering lake.

“Great sight, huh?” Han wrapped an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “And there’s a great tradition to the place as well. See those shadows behind the waterfalls? Those are huge caverns. Used to be the perfect hideout for smugglers and outlaws.”

“No wonder you’re so fond of this spot,” Luke returned and grinned when Han ruffled his hair.

The air was heavy with moisture, brushing his face with a gentle coolness, the falls’ muted roar overlaying every other sound. Luke felt all his senses reach out for the bright web of energy and for Han, at the center of the vibrant balance of life that surrounded them. Through the Force, the moment reverberated and filled him, and then he became aware that he was still looking at Han. He smiled awkwardly, sure that Han could read too much feeling in his eyes.

“Solo?” Roan’s voice drifted up from somewhere at their back.

Releasing Luke, Han turned to call, “Right here!”

Halfway downslope, they saw the clan steward come towards them, accompanied by a young woman.

Han broke his stride. “I’ll be damned!” he muttered.

“Han!” a clear alto called, and the woman jogged across the remaining distance. Without ceremony, she flung both arms around Han and hugged him.

“Rheea?” Han said, grabbing her shoulders. “Is that you? Last time I saw you, you were at least a head shorter...”

“I was sixteen years old,” she said cheerfully, smoothing wild strands back from her face. “Well, I’m a big girl now.”

“But what’re you doing here?” Han shook his head in bewilderment.

“Oh, you thought I was a right city girl, huh? Well, I’ve got family in these parts, Solo, and the port cities’ve grown too dark and dirty over the last years.” With a grin, Rheea took Han’s arm. “Who’s your friend?”

“Luke Skywalker,” Luke introduced himself.

“Nice meeting you.”

“Rheea was a portside cargo handler when we met,” Han explained. “At fifteen, imagine that. But we haven’t seen each other for... must be eight or ten years.”

“Nine,” Rheea supplied. “And at the time, I had a terrible crush on the big guy here.”

Her grin turned a shade cynical, and for a brief moment, Luke sensed a sadness behind her cheerful front, a tension that seemed completely at odds with her outgoing behavior.

Rheea didn’t release Han’s arm as they walked back towards their parked vehicles. Within moments, the two of them were engaged in a vivid exchange of memories. Falling a step behind, Luke struggled with a sweep of pointless jealousy. Tall and long-legged like most Corellian women, Rheea was certainly attractive. Honey-brown strands had struggled free of a thick braid at her nape and framed her tanned face. But if he started worrying each time a beautiful women professed a personal interest in Han, peaceful moments would be rare indeed.

As they reached their crafts, Roan put a hand on his arm. “Ride with me,” he said, nodding towards Han and Rheea. “I think the two of them would like some more time to talk about Corellia in the old days.”

Catching the remark, Han turned back with an apologetic smile. “You mind, Luke?”

“No problem, go ahead,” Luke returned easily.

But he couldn’t help it, Roan’s smug expression made him wonder if the reunion with Rheea was part of an elaborate strategy. Perhaps Roan calculated that attractive female company would have a greater effect on Han than any appeal to clan honor and filial responsibilities.

Settling into the passenger seat, Luke tried unsuccessfully to shake the growing uneasiness. Obviously enough, Han didn’t relish the notion of becoming a clan leader, but would he commit an entire family to disintegration and dishonor just because their request was incompatible with his plans? Although Han would be reluctant to admit it, the carbon freeze experience had changed him. Uprooted and adrift for so many years, he’d finally acknowledged the ties of friendship and loyalty, his actions revealing a sense of responsibility he’d savagely denied before. And there were unspoken needs that Luke could feel in him sometimes. More than anything, a deep need to belong.

And what if the clan offered just that? What if Han discovered that the prospect of a home, wife and children wasn’t so disagreeable after all? For the first time since Roan’s announcement, Luke let himself contemplate the possibility. He pictured Han striding towards one of the old Corellian mansions, a flock of children running to meet him, voices and laughter ringing from the house.

Absurd, Han would call it, a caricature of domestic bliss, but Luke felt choked up as he thought about it. He fought the bitterness, the querulous voice inside him that insisted life owed him his share after all he’d been through. He needed Han’s laughter, his clear, practical mind, his unrestrained passion. Painfully, Luke recalled how often he’d complained about Han’s fringe association with the Rebels during their early years.

 _We’re not going to keep him_ , Leia used to answer him in her uncompromising way. _You’ll have to accept that, Luke_.

Perhaps she’d been right. Letting go would not be easy, but what he felt for Han couldn’t be turned into demand and coercion. Luke inhaled deeply and pushed the thought from his mind. Nothing had been decided yet.

Glancing sidelong at Roan, he wondered if the Corellian considered his long silence discourteous. But the man’s face showed nothing but concentration as he steered the glider across increasingly difficult terrain. Craggy mountains surrounded them, and the trees that grew in dense clusters between rocks whipped their hanging branches across the windshield. Ahead of them, Luke recognized the distinct silhouette of a granite mountain peak. He frowned.

“We’ve entered Imperial territory, haven’t we?” he asked. “I looked at a map this morning—”

“Imperial territory!” Roan spat with a vigorous shake of the head. “This is _our_ land!”

His anger was genuine, and Luke felt compelled to apologize. “Living under Imperial occupation must have been difficult for you,” he offered.

Roan gave him an affronted look. “You have no idea!”

 _A Jedi knight, maybe, but certainly no diplomat_ , Luke thought with some remorse. But before he could give it another try, Roan swung the glider into a narrow turn, heading the vehicle for a canyon on the right. Broken cliffs and fallen rocks created a stony labyrinth, and the sight tingled Luke’s senses with renewed alarm.

“Why do we stop?” he asked as Roan slowed the glider.

”We’re here,” the Corellian answered grimly. “Sorry to disappoint you, but we were forced to abandon the family residence. We’ll rebuild as soon as the accursed Imperials’ve been chased to hell, but for the time being, the family’s forced to hide away in dirty holes up in the mountains.”

When he repeated his explanation to Han a few moments later, Luke used the time to stretch out with his senses. Near-electric tension enveloped him almost instantly, and before he knew, his hand had dropped to the lightsaber at his belt. _Wait_ , Luke counseled his growing alarm. _Concentrate_.

As clearly as if he’d taken sensor readings, he identified the presence of a group of sentients in the vicinity, felt their anticipation and taut alertness. A decimated, disowned family, anxiously waiting for the man who could change their fortunes? It was impossible to tell. But that Roan should have led them into an Imperial ambush seemed inconceivable.

Annoyed at himself, Luke paced a few steps. Instead of indulging morose speculation, he should have used the ride to understand Roan’s motives and ambitions.

When he turned back, Han strode towards him, hands shoved into his pockets. “So here we are,” he said with a pointed glance at the rocky desolation. “I’m not surprised Roan didn’t want to mention it right away. They live in caves up there.” He gestured at a narrow path that wound upwards between scarred cliffs. “This legacy’s turning out to be pretty unattractive, huh?”

“That won’t make it easier for you to decline,” Luke returned, studying him intensely.

An unspoken conflict was brewing right behind Han’s lopsided grin, but he didn’t answer the implicit question. “Listen,” he said after an uncomfortable pause, “according to Roan, it’s only a short walk from here...”

“And he doesn’t want me along,” Luke guessed.

“He doesn’t.” Han pulled a face. “I don’t understand why they have to be so damn secretive about this entire business.”

“I’ll come with you.” An instant later, Luke wished he’d caught those words back; they were too easy to misread.

“Hey, it’s not like they’re going to chain me to the family shrine or marry me to their daughters on the spot.”

“Trust me,” Luke said in a tight voice.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Han reached out, but before his hand could settle on Luke’s shoulder, Rheea called to him.

In passing, Luke noticed Roan’s disgruntled expression, but he focused his attention on Rheea. The tension he’d sensed earlier had become tangible like an energy field, reporting an inner struggle. When she sent a furtive glance in Han’s direction, Luke sensed a sudden flare of anger and grief. Without another word, Rheea started up the path.

Walking behind the three of them, Luke kept all his senses wide open, his mind searching the currents of the Force for signs of danger. Except for the sparse vegetation, the terrain resembled the rocky mesa on Tatooine, the Jawas’ favorite haunts. The jutting cliffs and crisscrossing paths offered perfect watchposts and hiding places.

The thought had barely formed when a sudden, blinding sense of danger overwhelmed Luke’s mind. And from its shadow formed a vague image of Han, caught in a blaze of fire from several guns. He crumpled, fell —

Luke almost gasped and fought for control. Whatever he’d seen had not been a vision of the future, that much he knew. Force-sight was less abrupt and dim. As a measure of calm returned, Luke identified the source of the disturbance. He felt agitation emanate from Rheea in waves and realized that he’d picked up an image conjured by her private fears. It was something she _expected_ to happen — and soon. Luke swung around, his senses straining to perceive more clearly.

Recognition struck him with an instant flush of adrenaline, streaming hot and cold through his veins. There were surreptitious movements among the rocks and cliffs all around them, a web of pursuit steadily pulling tighter.

“Han?” he called. “We gotta get out of here. Now.”

Several yards ahead on the path, Han turned back. “Why, what is it?”

Too late. Almost like a visible shadow, an urgent sense of warning flooded him, and Luke wheeled. “Get down!” he yelled, a split second before a blaster discharge sizzled the air and struck a spray of shrapnel off the cliff next to Han. While Rheea had flattened herself against a rocky wall, Roan dove for cover beneath an overhang. Han crouched, his blaster cocked.

Within a split second, Luke took it all in, but the mountain’s craggy flank now swarmed with shadows, and between the grey cliffs he caught flashes of Imperial uniforms. The first shot had been fired over a considerable distance, but the flurry of plasma beams that followed was more accurate, pelting down from invisible attackers. Pressed into a cavity as his only cover, Han was returning fire.

Luke’s fingers closed around cool metal, and the lightsaber hummed to life. He was about to launch himself up the path when he heard a low, grating rumble that echoed in his bone-marrow. Luke jumped back just before an avalanche of rocky debris cascaded across the path. He heard Rheea scream. Through the dust clouds streaked flashes of rifle fire that splattered fragments of stone across the path. At his back, Luke sensed the approach of several Imperial attackers. Moving in sheer reflex, he swung the ’saber into their line of fire, deflecting bolts that ricocheted back at them while he tightened his focus.

“Han!” he yelled again over the noise, enforcing the sound of his voice with a mental call. “Get down here.”

Their only hope of escape lay that way. Although insufficiently armored, Han’s airspeeder was fast, and once they’d reached their vehicles, Luke calculated he could create a delusion that would hold off pursuit. At least long enough to give them a head start.

The dust was slowly settling, and the first he saw was Des Roan’s inert form, blood running from dirt-caked hair down his temple and cheekbone. Luke could detect no sign of life in him. Then, from the swirling clouds, a tall silhouette emerged, moving steadily towards Luke while keeping close to the rocky wall.

“No!” Rheea shrieked, somewhere farther up, a desperate, shrill scream. “You can’t—”

Han stopped, half-turning. And lethal fire lanced down.

As if in slow motion, Luke saw Han duck a moment too late, saw his body jerk with the impact of the shot before he sagged against the rocks. At the same instant, a group of three uniformed Imperials leaped down from the cliff on Luke’s right.

A scream seared his throat but made no sound. He’d stopped breathing. The war, the desperate struggles, all his efforts — all for nothing, if he lost Han. Fury cut through him and left him horrified at the emptiness that opened before him. He wasn’t thinking like a Jedi, couldn’t reach the Force through the riot of feelings that twisted in his chest.

Luke sucked a painful breath deep into his lungs. He’d launched himself against the Imperials with blind rage, as if revenge could neutralize his loss. He needed to calm himself. While his body performed the practiced motions and the lightsaber’s blade deflected a hailstorm of plasma discharges, Luke focused inward and leveled his mind until supple energy infused every nerve. Through the Force, he felt Han’s presence, dimmed by agony, but doubtlessly alive. A hot wave of relief washed through him.

Raising a hand, Luke twisted the foremost assailant’s wrist, yanking the blaster from the man’s grip until it arced through the air, smashing into the rocks below. The group fell back. While he moved towards Han, the lightsaber raised high between them, Luke disarmed the remaining two attackers in the same way.

 _Go!_ he sent — and felt their fear mount until it overwhelmed military discipline. They fled, and as the Force flowed freely through him, Luke directed the men’s panic back against their unseen companions. Confusion spread among them in quickening ripples.

He crouched beside Han and gripped his shoulders. Hazel eyes focused on him with some difficulty.

“We’re out of here,” Luke said, his voice catching despite his efforts to keep it steady.

“Luke...” Han rasped, one hand clutched over his burned side. Blood seeped through his fingers. “Dunno if I can... if I’m... gonna make it.”

“You will.” The sound of his voice turned desperate hope into a command, and Han grimaced. But before he could object, Rheea stumbled towards them, white-faced, although apparently uninjured.

“Han,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry...”

“We don’t have time,” Luke stopped her. Now was their only chance to escape.

One hand resting against Han’s temple, Luke drew on the Force to channel energy into him, saw the shocked surprise on Han’s face as pain faded and control returned to his muscles. But the effect wouldn’t last very long, and the surge of energy couldn’t heal his wounds or even stop the bleeding.

“See?” Luke said softly as he helped Han to his feet, his only concern now to take them all safely to their vehicles.

He thought of the avalanche which had choked the path a few minutes ago, almost separating him from Han.

“What about Des?” Rheea asked weakly, glancing around.

Luke merely shook his head. His mind floated, drifted high above, calling up rubble and grit from the deep folds in the mountainside. From a distance, he saw himself, supporting Han as they descended the path. The air vibrated around him, heavy with dust clouds that whirled up, gathering into a storm. Then, there was a sound like thunder.

Luke fell back into himself. They had to hurry now. In another moment, the avalanche he’d summoned would bury the entire path in debris, but it would also block pursuit for crucial minutes. Han leaned on him, and his breath came in heaving gasps as Luke urged him on towards the bottom of the canyon.

“I’ll take the glider,” Rheea said. “You two get into the speeder. I’ll find us a safe way out of here.” Some color had returned into her pale cheeks as she ran towards the craft.

Just as they stepped out into the open, cascading stones began crashing down the mountain path. Luke felt the bombardment of smaller fragments against his shoulders and the back of his neck. A good distance behind them, more shots were fired and a jumble of voices shouted angry commands over the rumble and roar.

“Whoa,” Han gasped as he slumped into the airspeeder’s passenger seat, “that was close.”

Several blaster bolts whistled down from the cliff with better aim than before, and one scorched the speeder’s aft section, tearing a gash into the camouflage-painted hull.

Luke kicked the vehicle into gear and raced it through the canyon after Rheea’s glider. Dividing his attention between navigating the speeder and the Imperial party in the mountains, he drew on the Force again to obscure their trail. Across such a distance, he couldn’t hope to conjure a coherent illusion, but he could instill enough confusion to hamper pursuit for a while.

Only minutes later, glider and airspeeder had gained the cover of forested mountain slopes. Luke toggled the comlink to hail Rheea.

“How’s Han?” she inquired immediately.

“Not dead yet,” Han growled, but he’d paled again and kept his eyes closed.

“Where are we heading?” Luke asked, sparing a grim glance for Han. The blaster burn covered most of his left side and shoulder, and blood was still oozing from the injury.

“Back in the direction of the Falls,” Rheea answered. “They’ll have trouble hunting us down in the woodlands.”

With noticeable difficulty, Han pulled himself upright to speak into the pickup. “What about the family?”

There was a long pause and when Rheea finally answered, she’d lowered her voice. “The Innis Falin clan no longer exists,” she said bleakly. “Des and his brother Derren, my husband, were the only survivors of an Imperial attack last winter. I regret what happened, Han, believe me. All of it...” She trailed off for a moment, then added, “I’m from a different clan, so I can’t even tell you if Des was right about your genealogy. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” Han managed. “Maybe my mother never had a sister after all.”

“Why did he do it?” Luke asked. There was no need for him to specify.

“Roan did it for me. And for his brother. An Imperial commando had captured Derren—” Rheea’s voice faltered for a moment. “They promised to release him, in exchange for Han. They brought Derren along... He was there. And they shot him. They shot him right before my eyes...”

“Goddamn bastards,” Han muttered, sagging back in his seat.

Swerving out into open country, the two vehicles sped southward, now flying abreast. When Luke turned sideways, he could see Rheea’s taut face. Noticing him, she glanced back and gave a start.

“Skywalker,” she said tersely over comlink, “you’re leaking fuel.”

“Damn!” Luke checked the display. The parting shot they’d taken had hit the fuel tank, and the droppage was considerable. Luke cursed himself for not having noticed at once.

“Bad?” Rheea asked.

“At this rate, I doubt we’ll make it back to the base.” Luke considered for a moment. “I’ll have to get in touch with them and ask for a vehicle to pick us up.”

“That will take time. We’d better split up. Maybe I can draw the Imperials off your trail. I guess I owe you that much.”

“It would help. Thanks,” Luke returned. Through the Force, he could distract and confuse sentient minds, but sensor equipment was immune to such manipulation. Sooner or later, the Imperials had to pick up their readings.

“Think you’ll find the way to the Falls?” Rheea asked.

“The route’s still logged in the navicomp, no problem.”

“Good. I’m off then.” She swung her craft to the side, but in another moment, the com channel switched on again. “Han?” she said. “I hope you’ll be able to forgive me someday. I just — I didn’t know what to do...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Han mumbled.

“Good luck,” Luke added, his voice laced with tension and worry. At the back of his mind burned the image of Han collapsing against the cliff, his face white as death. And he didn’t look much better now.

For another moment, Luke watched Rheea’s vehicle streak off, zigzagging through the large _yola_ trees. “I’m going to contact the base,” he said. “Let’s just hope no one’s listening in on our radio.”

Next to him, Han stirred faintly. “Tell ‘em to bring a medical shuttle,” he said raspily, “maybe a fighter... no big escort... we don’t want this to derail into a big clash...”

Luke clamped down on impulsive protest. Han was right. At this critical juncture, a military confrontation between Imperial and Alliance forces could jeopardize the peace treaty.

When Luke glanced sidelong at him, Han’s head was lolling, and the bloodied hand he’d pressed into the injury had slipped down. Keeping his emotions tightly in check, Luke hailed the base and described the situation in short words. “We’ll have to abandon the speeder, or we’ll be too easy to locate,” he finished. “We’ll stay within a one-mile radius of Ingla Falls. Contact us via General Solo’s comlink as soon as you’re there.”

When he’d signed off, Luke groped for Han’s hand until his fingers found cool skin, but there was no response to his touch. Before they abandoned the vehicle, he would have to ransack the medikit for an antiseptic and painkillers.

“Now all we need is find a place where we can hide for an hour or two,” he said aloud. And then he remembered the caverns behind the waterfall.

{ } { } { }

Scarcely an hour had passed when they descended a hidden path down the steep, bramble-covered slope. Luke carried the medikit, salvaged from the speeder’s trunk before he’d set the vehicle on autopilot. If they were lucky, the speeder would make it several miles into the wilderness until it eventually crashed, misleading Imperial pursuit. They’d heard the drone of engines in the distance several times, but now the tumultuous rush of the waterfalls drowned out every other sound.

Although he’d swallowed a maximum dosage of painkillers, Han was unsteady on his feet and leaned heavily on Luke. They didn’t have to walk very far, but the footpath proved slippery, winding around rocks until it eventually leveled out. When they reached the ledge skirting one of the waterfall’s terraces, Han was stumbling and leaned against the wet cliff to catch his breath.

“Brilliant idea,” he brought out. “They’ll break their necks before they catch us here... only wish I was in better shape.”

“You’re doing fine,” Luke said, firmly banishing concern from his voice. “Just show me how to get into the cave, then you can rest yourself.”

“Through the water,” Han said. “The cave’s right behind it.”

Sunlight glittered on the spray all around them as they proceeded cautiously across the smooth white rocks. His arm wrapped tightly around Han’s waist, Luke paused directly beside the gushing water, expecting to be thoroughly drenched by the deluge. But when they took another step forward, they saw that the white torrent arched away from the cliff. Only a thin drizzle rained down on them as they passed a curtain of water.

Easing Han down, Luke opened the medikit and checked its contents. “We won’t have to wait long,” he said, retrieving the antiseptic. “Try to relax.”

“I’m okay,” Han muttered, “not that eager to be dropped into bacta slime anyway.”

Brown stains of dried blood were evident all over Han’s jacket, and Luke gritted his teeth as he gently peeled the torn and scorched fabric off the injury. Han flinched at the burning touch of the antiseptic.

“I’d almost forgotten how much I hate that part,” he said. “Sorry, Luke, go on. Has to be done.”

Taking off his own jacket, Luke rolled it into a pillow for him. As quickly and thoroughly as he could, he bathed the wound and improvised dressings from the gauze and tissues provided by the medikit. When he’d finished, Han’s breath came in shallow gasps, and sweat beaded on his pale face.

“You’ll be all right,” Luke said, framing his face in both hands. “Now rest.”

Once more he reached into the Force and let its energy flow into Han, soothing tense muscles and bruised nerves. Within moments, Han breathed easier and seemed to drift into undisturbed sleep. Watching him, Luke felt the residue of fear drain from his mind, but he still recalled the blinding despair that had seized him when Han was shot. As if his life would be over without Han.

It wasn’t safe to love like that, and it certainly wasn’t sensible. _Always too much to lose_ , Luke thought. Perhaps that was where Han’s live-the-moment philosophy came from. And why they’d both been reluctant to discuss their future or admit how involved they’d become. _Or is it just me?_ Luke wondered once again. In hindsight, he felt that he’d been holding back, afraid of sudden loss.

Relaxing, he leaned against the rock where pale moss grew in thin patches. Sunlight fell in through the water curtain, its reflections creating an illusion of movement everywhere in the cavern, as if the walls were breathing. Luke let his mind drift and thought back of the first night he and Han had spent together. It had all happened so easily, almost casually.

Lando’s goodbye party had been followed by an inner-circle celebration aboard the Falcon that lasted well into the night. Eventually, Luke had found himself dozing off on the couch in the lounge, drowsy with the unfamiliar effects of large quantities of Corellian brandwater. It was the sudden quiet that had finally startled him back to wakefulness. Everyone else had left, and he was slouching on the couch with Han — or rather, comfortably slouched against Han who pulled him back when he tried to gain his feet. Luke sagged into Han’s arm around his shoulders, and when he turned his head, Han’s face was close enough to feel his breath.

 _You don’t look like you should be walking any distance, kid, except straight to the next bunk_ , he’d cautioned.

But the way he said it made Luke’s skin crawl. Confused and almost alarmed, he wondered if the alcohol in his blood had made him hear a seductive note in Han’s gentle mockery. They were sitting close enough for their legs and hips to touch, and with only the smallest tug, Han had pulled him close against his chest. _Just stay here, okay?_

 _If you don’t mind_ — or something equally uninspired was what he’d replied. But he’d never forget Han’s next words.

 _You could bunk with me. Gotta warn you though... I might not be able to keep my hands off_.

As if to prove it, Han had lifted a hand and trailed his fingertips down Luke’s cheek. The contact sobered him instantly, as if Han’s touch had simply burned any residual alcohol from his bloodstream. Galvanized and breathless, Luke had returned the gesture, one hand wrapping around Han’s neck to pull him closer. _Don’t. I mean, don’t keep your hands off_.

He’d felt the soft vibrations of Han’s chuckle against his chest, Han’s breath on his mouth, and when they kissed, it was just part of that easy, inevitable drawing-together, suffusing him like a touch of velvet to every nerve.

 _We’re not gonna do anything you don’t want_ , Han had said a little while later, and Luke had almost laughed out loud. As if that were even possible.

And there had been laughter that night, between awkward fumbling, murmured suggestions and gasping breaths. Before Luke had finally fallen asleep, he’d felt light as a feather, complete and content and thoroughly amazed. He’d never asked for more. He’d told Han that he loved him when they spent the next night together, but suspected that Han didn’t quite believe him. _Let’s just take it as it comes, huh?_ he’d returned and somehow managed to make it sound like a promise more than the rejection it could have been.

Luke smiled at the memory, but when he glanced back at Han’s blood-drained face, the lighter mood dissipated instantly. Time was too short, and he needed to be sure that Han knew how he felt. It had never seemed so important before.

Moving a little closer, Luke touched Han’s wrist and found a slow, steady pulse. He glanced at the waterfall outside, the glitter of spray that flashed and faded, and once again felt the sheer vibrancy of life that surrounded them in this place. Every moment they had together was precious.

No matter what Han thought where this relationship was going, Luke wanted each moment to reflect the intensity he felt almost like a clenching ache in his chest.

“I’ve never really told you,” he said softly and hesitated again, listening after the sound of his voice as it blended into the rush of the waterfall. “You mean so much to me, and I’m not sure I’ve shown you enough of it,” he continued. “I just want you to know. Maybe it won’t last, but...” He shook his head, quirking a wry smile at himself. “I can’t imagine that. You’d call me a hopeless romantic, I guess. It’s not that I expect you to stay forever, I just can’t imagine how things’d be without you. Not anymore.”

“Who says you have to?” Han muttered, stirring drowsily.

“You’re awake.” Luke felt absurdly embarrassed.

“Yeah, I heard that.” Slowly, the hazel eyes fluttered open, dilated and dark, but a touch of wry humor bent Han’s generous mouth. “Keep talking, don’t let me stop you. I kinda liked what you said...”

“There’s not much more.” Luke laced his fingers through Han’s and pressed them. “I love you. That’s all.”

This time, Han’s reaction was totally different. Without the shadow of a smile, he studied Luke for a long, searching moment. Then he asked, “And you thought I’d change my mind, didn’t you?”

Startled, Luke shook his head.

“C’mon, you know what I’m talking about,” Han insisted, slowly raising himself on his elbows. “You wondered if I was gonna dump you for a position as tribal leader, with nagging wives, screaming kids...”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be reading minds,” Luke said.

“Yeah, but I can read your face, kid.” For a moment longer, Han watched him closely, then his gaze roamed around the cavern. “I told you. I don’t want a different life. And I don’t want anybody else.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Luke tried to explain. “I just thought — they’re offering something we’ll never have.”

Han’s eyes swept back to him at that, and a small grin came. “What we _don’t_ have is something I can do without,” he said. “You were born with wings, kid. I could tell straight off when I first saw you fly. We’re the same... can’t settle down, not for good.” He gestured dismissively and grimaced an instant later, his hand moving to the bandaged injury. “Damn...”

“Come on, lie back down.” Gripping his shoulders, Luke eased Han back against the makeshift pillow. “And no more speeches. I get your drift.”

“Be sure that you do,” Han growled, but despite his efforts to control the pain he’d paled again. “I’m not that good with words, Luke. Thought you knew... how I feel about you.”

Luke ran his fingers across the dark hair, matted with dust from the canyon.

“Hell, if it’d been _you_ out there,” Han said, “almost getting killed... I’d’ve gone berserk.” Lashes lowering, he breathed out raggedly. ”Now c’mere and kiss me, will ya?”

Luke leaned over and kissed him gently, his mouth barely moving against Han’s, but he felt energy stream through both of them like the sunlight fractured by the waterfall, infusing every part of body and mind.

“You know how that feels?” Han murmured when he drew away. “Like the sun’s coming up inside me.”

“That’s the Force you feel,” Luke managed, his throat suddenly tight.

“No. It’s you,” Han said between strained breaths. “And you’re... all I want. I’ll prove it... when they’ve stitched me back together. Right now... you’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“I do,” Luke said with a deep breath.

When the comlink buzzed only a minute later and the medical team from the base announced their impending arrival, he released Han’s hand and for a moment stood under the thready white water that caressed his face and throat like cool silk. It felt as if another life had just begun.

{ } { } { }

Two weeks later, they took a floater out across the ocean. The peace treaty had been signed without further incidents, and after he’d been pronounced fit for duty again, Han had transferred back to headquarters in the capital.

They’d also heard from Rheea in the meantime. She’d made it safely to another Alliance outpost but was determined to return to the canyon and recover her husband’s body for burial. She’d offered to stand trial for treason and collaboration with the Imperials, but Han had refused outright.

 _Don’t be stupid. I’m as good as new. No hard feelings_.

“I feel sorry for her,” Han said now, as he switched off the floater’s repulsor lifts. “She finally found herself a family, and now she’s lost them again.”

The floater descended slowly, landing on gently rocking waves.

“It was almost the same for you,” Luke returned pensively.

Han shrugged. “Not really. I mean, it was a nice thought, but what if I hadn’t liked them? And anyway, we don’t even know if they were my family. It’s all hypothetical.”

Reclining back on the floater’s deck, Han reached out to wrap an arm around Luke’s waist and pulled him down alongside him. All around them stretched the empty ocean, and the sunlight sparkling on the waves reflected in Han’s eyes. He ran his fingers into Luke’s hair.

“Leia’s going to arrive tomorrow,” Luke said before he could get utterly distracted. “I had a message from her this morning. They’ve invited her for the celebration.”

“I know.” Han paused, cocking his head. “She doesn’t like it, huh? I mean us, getting together and all that.”

“I’m not sure. I think she worries.”

Han grinned. “Maybe I should talk to her. Convince her of my absolutely honorable intentions...”

“Start with me,” Luke said and leaned over to kiss him.

Their lips merged and clung as they deepened the kiss, tenderness flaring into passion, breathing growing erratic as they moved into a closer embrace.

“Perfect,” Han said when they both needed to come up for air. “Nothing but the sea, the sky and you. All I want.” He cupped Luke’s face in both sun-browned hands. “Just for the record. I love you. Very much.”

Luke smiled. “I know.”

{ } { } { }


End file.
